Head Over Heels
by Olive Tree Hugger
Summary: Prompts for Erumika Week 2014 /Erumika/
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So Erumika week is going on over at Tumblr, and since I'm an admin for the blog, I knew I probably should actively participate. That means drawings AND drabbles. So, quick reminder that Erumika is the pairing of Erwin and Mikasa! I know some people might find that a little strange, but I do like the pairing and so do many of the folks on Tumblr so if you want to check it out, go to .com (just remove the parantheses) or check the tag #erumikaweek on the same website (Tumblr)!**

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**Erumika Week 2014**

**Day 1: Kaleidoscope**

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Gray.

It was the one color Erwin could see for most of his life. He didn't really remember when it'd happened, but he knew it had been a long time since he could decipher what colors _really_ looked like, especially red and green. During missions it was difficult for the Commander to differentiate between flare colors-which proved to be fatal in many cases to the soldiers following him. Thank God Mike and Hanji were with him usually, else the entire division would've been wiped out _years_ ago.

They understood, however. He knew his troops respected him as he was, and of course, he did his best to keep a lid on the issue. In fact, none of the younger recruits had even known about it until the day he lost his right arm. That was the day Ackerman cleaned and sewed his wound up.

Cadet Ackerman was ranked highest in her graduating class and was famous for being viciously skilled in battle. Erwin found that impressive. He'd never worked side by side with her until that day's retrieval mission, and watching her work up front would have been spectacular if not for the immense amount of bloodshed in return. The captain was wheeled into the room that night despite his protests that he didn't need a wheelchair, because for God's sake, he'd lost an _arm, _not a leg.

Standing next to a small table and a chair in the middle of the room with a pair of alabaster gloves on her hands and her face illuminated by the soft grayish-yellow glow of the lanterns, was Mikasa. Her stoic expression told him that she just meant to do her job, and that made Erwin less agitated. He veered the wheelchair in front of the seat.

"Sir," Mikasa simply greeted.

Erwin replied coolly, "Go ahead."

He felt her calloused hands undo the bandages wrapped around his stump. Subtly, he peeked downwards to see stains of dark gray splattered all over the fabric, unraveling until he saw his arm. There was almost nothing left, just a small hunk of shoulder that tapered off into an ugly mess of blood, bone, and flesh. It made his stomach churn. Damn that titan.

She held a bottle of whiskey out in front of him. Erwin felt the corners of his mouth tighten into a smirk. Whenever he was in a room with a patient undergoing a procedure, they were given a few drinks of whiskey to lull the pain. Proud as he was, the Commander used his left arm to grab the bottle. He took a few whole-hearted swigs and winced as the burning liquid traveled down his throat. He eyeballed the label on the bottle and squinted. Mikasa had given him one of the stronger brands. She was smart.

He turned his body around completely to give her back the whiskey. The cadet placed it on the table and picked up a pair of scissors in its stead. Erwin swallowed a hard lump watched as the metal sliced through his skin. Pain shot through his arm and upper torso like lightning, but he kept quiet, biting down on his inner cheek to keep from making any noise. Instead, he watched as Mikasa worked silently, efficiently.

"Permission to speak freely, sir," the young woman suddenly uttered.

Erwin blinked, puzzled. What could she say now that she needed privacy for? "Permission granted, cadet," he replied, intrigued.

As she wiped his injury clean, she continued, "I wanted to personally thank you for saving Eren from that traitor."

Taken aback, Erwin stared at her. He'd almost forgotten that she was related to the young man they'd set out for earlier, though not by blood. Her loyalty to her brother was admirable, if not surprising.

"We have to protect cadet Jaeger at all costs. I know I've made countless sacrifices that turned into failures in the past, but today I believe we've made a movement against the enemy," he replied gruffly. He felt the pain from her needle start to numb, as the alcohol swept through his brain. Words were starting to tumble from his lips without censure. He never spoke this way in front of anyone besides his most trusted soldiers.

Mikasa nodded, understanding. "If I may say so, Commander Smith...I don't blame you. Sacrifices have to be made in these cases. You are no exception."

An unceremonious snort left Erwin's mouth as he looked back at his stump, now free of excess blood, black string tightly strung through the flesh. "I suppose now I have proof," he joked dryly. "Now when the Imperial Capital drags me to their stuffy courtroom I can just take off my jacket and swing my empty sleeve around."

"Sir?" Mikasa questioned, voice slightly tinted with worry.

The Commander lifted his head to look at her. Her soft features were flattered by the lighting, her eyes a stark dark gray against the paleness of her skin. He found himself squinting into them, wondering. Her irises possessed a shocking collection of grays that were so vibrant despite their color. He stared at what was a kaleidoscope of heathers, silvers, chiaroscuros, and slates.

Now Erwin wanted to know what color could possibly look so beautiful even in grayed tints. He cleared his throat and asked as professionally as he could, "Cadet Ackerman, what color eyes do you have?"

The owner of said eyes gasped very slightly, her cheeks darkening a shade or two. "M-my eyes are gray, Commander Smith," she responded shyly. Abruptly, she started to reassemble and clean her equipment. Once more she hastily wiped his stump and wrapped it tightly with bandages before stepping away and claiming that she'd finished.

Slowly, the older man nodded and responded with a formal "thank you, cadet Ackerman" before cautiously making his way out of the room.

Hanji and Levi met him outside, leaning against the harsh brick walls. "How'd it go?" Levi asked, tone less monotonous than usual.

Erwin simply turned his head forward and started for his room. He could hear his subordinates and friends whispering harshly but he didn't care for their speech. At this point, he felt like he'd seen a whole new world. _Gray?_ He thought. All his life the leader had only seen_ that_ shade and yet, he'd never quite known its beauty. Life had certainly cheated him out of the experience before, hadn't it?

Still, now the Commander had a new favorite color, for the first time in his life, and he couldn't wait to see more of it.

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**Author's Note: Is it totally AU to make Erwin color blind? Idk. I know color blindness really affects the individual's ability to distinguish between red and green, but I think it can vary in degrees. Colors come from ultraviolet light being reflected against our rods and cones (structures inside our eyes) and since the colors can sometimes blend together so that red and green can be found in anything, I believe Erwin is severely color blind. He can only see some light shades of blue and some yellows, but most of his vision is purely gray. So, that being said, please review and check out #erumikaweek on Tumblr!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Erumika Week **

**Day 2: Scars**

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Sweat dribbled down Mikasa's back as she curled her upper body to meet her knees. As she felt her chest tighten and her core muscles clench, she grunted softly and went back down, pulling back up again just before her head hit the bench. A few thick strands of her obsidian locks were plastered to her face with perspiration, but she refused to stop now. She was nearing her two hundredth sit-up for the early morning. While she moved, she took in deep inhalations through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth rapidly. The top of the 104th Trainee Squad had reserved herself the workout room weeks ago with the intention of breaking it in more than anyone else ever had. She had to stay strong in order to survive and protect the people she loved, after all.

No one usually bothered her during a workout session-whether it was because they didn't want to upset her or because they were intimidated by her physical prowess, she really didn't care. She was always too busy to care.

Until today in particular. As she finished up her last sit-up, the door swiftly opened, light from outside pooling in. Bringing her feet over the right side of the bench, Mikasa looked up. Her eyes widened at the sight of Erwin striding in, a dark green jacket and a white towel wrapped around his shoulders and a pair of gray slacks covering his lower body. He locked eyes with her for a second, before nodding formally and closing the door behind him.

Mikasa watched the Commander shrug off his outerwear-sans his pants-to reveal bare skin. Immediately, the young woman shifted her gaze to the wall, embarrassed for herself and her superior. She hastily stood up, ready to leave, when she heard the first groan.

Snapping her head back, she found the man laying on a different bench, lifting one of the fifty pound weights in his left arm and another with his right foot. It was an impressive showcase of coordination, to say the least, especially since he'd just lost his arm a week ago. She was surprised to see him back in training so soon. Still, Erwin was his own man and she had no say in his life choices.

Feeling sore, the cadet ambled over to the leather punching bag, the hide of which was thoroughly scraped and battered from her daily beatings. Feeling a sense of familiar animosity for this bag, she slid on the puffy boxing gloves and took her fighting stance. Mikasa pictured a titan's face as her target, and immediately started going at it. She jabbed and hooked and rammed her fists into the punching bag as hard as she could, frequently switching to kicks. Her own breath became ragged and heavy.

The sound of leather being brutally pummeled echoed in the air, so much that Mikasa completely forgot about the other person in the room until he spoke.

"You're getting lazy," Erwin said.

Letting the bag swing to a stop, Mikasa panted and turned around, brows furrowed together. "Excuse me?"

She watched as the blond rose slowly from his bench, dropping the weights haphazardly as he did so. She wiped her forehead free of sweat using her wrist as he moved closer. His chest was crisscrossed with old wounds, some of them running down rippling abs and dipping into his belly button.

"You're self defense is lacking," he explained. "The bag is lax and weak, so you hit it with little effort. If you imagine that this bag is a real living person, you can move more efficiently, as if they were hitting back."

Mikasa cleared her throat as humility washed over her. She had imagined the face of the enemy, but she'd also imagined that she'd had complete power over it. She went into fights without thinking sometimes. She blushed.

Erwin walked behind the punching bag and gripped it on one side, before settling his useful shoulder against it, saying, "Now try."

She brought around her killer right hook, pounding it straight into the hide, only to be met with resistance. The hit left a pang of discomfort, a jam, in two of her fingers, but she masked it and continued to fight. They went on like that for nearly half an hour, the cadet punching, the Commander pushing back. Sometimes he shoved the whole bag towards her, subsequently showing her how to fluidly dodge and cover when it was possible.

The workout left them both panting and exhausted, dripping with sweat. Mikasa ripped the gloves off of her hands, tying them together and draping them over a nail jutting out of the wall before she realized something. She turned around and gestured to the bag, asking Erwin, "Would you like me to spot you, sir?"

He stared at the bag for a long time, eyes glazed over like he was remembering something.

Confused, Mikasa cleared her throat, to which the older man blinked and replied, "Thank you...thank you, Ackerman."

Mikasa held out a left hand glove and helped Erwin pull it on. She did as he'd showed her earlier, she stood behind the punching bag and waited for the first blow. She waited two minutes before leaning to the side to see what was wrong. The Commander's cheeks were pallid, like the white crumbling stucco outside the girls' dormitory. His hand was trembling as he stared at it. He swallowed incessantly, like he had dry mouth. His breathing was shallow and loud, nervous even.

Realization hit the young woman like a brick. Cautious not to upset him, Mikasa slowly slid the glove off of his arm and rejoined it with its other half before returning to her superior. She held onto his calloused, clammy hand and waited for a reaction. Sometimes when she was anxious the feeling of human touch helped her recover, but judging by the way Erwin was acting, he would need more.

She lead him over to the bench and helped him sit. Still, no reaction. Mikasa stood behind him and very carefully curled her fingers around his shoulders, gently kneading the muscles there like she was squeezing a teddy bear. Then she began to trace Erwin's scars down with her fingers. Angry red lines circled his broad shoulder blades and ran down his sides before splitting at his sharp hip bones. She had those same scars on her body from the 3DMG, though Erwin's were deeper and darker. He_ had_ been wearing them longer than her. Smaller marks scattered across the flesh, some of them dulled white from age and others still freshly pink. Many of them followed the curves of his muscles. But there was one scar that shocked her the most. The black string keeping the remainder of his right arm stitched together, the one she'd put there, made her heart ache. She gently placed the pads of her fingertips on it, feeling the jagged wound press against her flesh.

Erwin suddenly flinched under her touch, leaving Mikasa reeling away. The man spun his upper body around to look at her, eyes bloodshot as though he'd awoken from a nightmare. The young woman gasped, "I-I'm sorry, Commander Smith."

He bit his lower lip and wiped sweat from his brow, clearly just as embarrassed as her. Silently, he gathered his jacket and his towel and wrapped them around himself before gliding out of the room. The door slammed behind him, making Mikasa blink back stinging tears. It was strange, yet somewhat comforting, to know that even a man as stoic as Commander Smith had inner scars that wouldn't heal either.


	3. Chapter 3

"Two tickets, please," A scratchy, small voice begged.

Mikasa grinned as she peered over the counter, thankful to finally have a customer after three hours of boring seclusion. No one ever came to quad four for tickets. She found herself staring a little boy wearing a Mickey Mouse cap in his wide, crystal blue eyes. In one pink hand, he held up a twenty dollar bill.

Biting her lip, she replied, "Sorry, kid. Two tickets for a full day pass are one hundred and sixty bucks. You're missing a hundred and forty big ones."

He pouted and pulled his hand back. "Is there anything I can buy for this much?" He asked.

Guiltily, the cashier stated, "At Hollywood Studios? A soda, probably." She leaned over her counter and looked left, then right. "Where are your parents?"

The boy shrugged, "I dunno where my dad is."

Concerned, Mikasa reached for her microphone and pressed a button to activate the intercom. "What's your name?" She asked the child.

"Devin Smith," he responded, smiling a toothy grin.

She nodded in response, repeating into the microphone, "Will the guardian of Devin Smith, wearing a blue shirt and camo shorts and a Mickey Mouse hat, please come pick him up from the ticket booth in quad four, please?"

With no immediate response, Mikasa gestured for Devin to sneak into the booth with her. "I'll let you stay here until your dad comes, okay?" She said.

He nodded excitedly. "Okay. What's your name?"

"I'm Mikasa," she replied, directing him to sit on a spare fold-up chair in the corner of her cramped booth.

When he was seated, Mikasa asked him, "Was the other ticket supposed to be for your dad?"

"No. I'm mad at him," Devin responded, turning his nose up.

The ticket vendor smirked, "What for?"

"He wouldn't let me go on the Bay Slides," the child responded, pouting.

Snorting, Mikasa replied, "Well, you have to be a certain height to go on that ride. You're pretty small."

Devin narrowed his eyes at her like she'd committed an act of betrayal and said, "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Fine," Mikasa retorted, pretending to lose interest in him, "You're tall enough."

She turned back to the counter and tapped her nails against the cash register. Watching the passerby used to be entertaining; the flurry of overweight visitors and their sunburned children and tourists snapping photos was a sight to behold. However, Mikasa quickly lost interest when none of them noticed her post.

Devin suddenly tugged her shirt. "Mikasa?" He asked. "I have to go to the bathroom."

The woman blanched. Where was this kid's father? "Um, could you hold it in? Just until your dad pick's you up?" She inquired nervously. She wasn't used to this.

His eyes clenched and he cupped his front, "I havta go _now_!"

Huffing, Mikasa grabbed Devin's arm and muttered, "I'm _so_ getting fired."

Quickly, the young woman shut the window to her booth closed and half-dragged, half-tugged Devin towards the restrooms. She glanced over her shoulder for sight of her supervisor or a nosy patron. Mikasa walked him to the door of the stall of the men's bathroom and gently pushed him towards it. She ignored the dirty looks she received from the other men there.

"Can you go by yourself?" She asked.

The blond child nodded and squeaked, "Close the door!"

Mikasa shut the stall door and called, "Flush the toilet when you're all done."

"There's pee on the seat!"

Grunting disgustedly, she responded, "Wipe it with the toilet paper!"

"Okay."

Five minutes passed and Mikasa couldn't hear anything. She worriedly rapped her knuckles on the door and called, "Devin, are you alright?"

At first there was no answer, and the black haired woman pushed her shoulder against the stall door, ready to stampede through it when she heard Devin's voice, "Cover your ears! I can't go with you listening!"

Mikasa sighed in exasperation and plugged her ears with her fingers. "Okay," she said. "My ears are covered."

She stood there for a few moments, getting glares and confused looks from passerby. She sneered back at an older woman who looked like she could angrily preach to her about religion. But really, Mikasa was nervously awaiting Devin's father, if he had one. She was starting to wonder if maybe the child was on a field trip and ran off, or somehow snuck in alone. The young woman had done that in her own childhood _many_ times.

The stall door flew open and Devin walked out, tugging up his shorts. Mikasa sighed in relief and nodded at him, "C'mon, wash your hands."

After the boy finished cleaning his hands, he and Mikasa strut out together and started for the booth. Devin, holding her hand, uttered, "Mikasa, I'm hungry."

The woman groaned inwardly. "C'mon, I have a sandwich in my purse," she told him.

Both of them squeezed themselves back inside the ticket booth and settled themselves on the plastic chairs. Mikasa took a quick glance outside to make sure no one was around, closed the windows, and whipped out her purse.

"Do you like turkey?" She asked Devin.

Blue eyes lit up. "I love it!" He replied.

She unwrapped the submarine sandwich and tore it in two. She handed one to the boy, along with the plastic so he could keep tidy. Mikasa also pulled out a Pepsi bottle and said, "I don't have a cup so we'll have to share this."

The boy shrugged, his ruddy cheeks already swollen with food. Mikasa snorted. The boy was endearing, though he was being a handful. She bit into her sandwich.

"I like your scarf," Devin said, a piece of lettuce clinging to his chin.

Mikasa raised her eyebrows and looked down at the red fabric wrapped around her neck. It was against policy to wear anything besides her uniform-khaki slacks and a red t-shirt-to work, but Mikasa ignored the rule. "Thanks," she uttered.

He tipped his head to the side, "Why is it so old and dirty?"

She stared at the woven fabric, noticing the dark stains hidden in the creases. Thanks to hot coffee and unreliable detergent, she'd never look presentable again.

Mikasa grinned. "It's not dirty," she replied. "I washed it last week. These stains just won't come out."

"Oh. Where did you get it?"

Her eyes leveled with the ground and she replied, "My brother gave it to me when we were little."

Devin stopped chewing his sandwich and leaned forward. "You have a brother? What happened to him?"

Mikasa accidentally bit the inside of her cheek, causing her to grunt in pain. "W-what makes you think anything happened to him?" She asked, eyes suddenly going misty.

"Because you're acting the way my dad does when he talks about my mom," Devin replied, frowning.

Realization poured over Mikasa like ice water. _Oh God._

She stuttered and stumbled over her words, trying to react as sensitively as possible. "I-I...um...my brother Eren is in the army. I just really miss him."

The little boy's face brightened and he exclaimed, "My dad's in the army!"

"Really?" Mikasa answered, smiling through her tears.

Devin nodded excitedly. "He's on leave from Af-af-afjen...af-"

"Afghanistan?"

He giggled, "Yeah, that place."

The young woman tipped her head back and poured some soda into her mouth. Swallowing, she gestured for Devin to open up. He did so, waiting for Mikasa to fill his mouth and closing his lips over the fizzy drink. He burped suddenly, scrunching his nose. This made Mikasa frown.

"Mind your manners," she berated him softly.

"_Mind your manners_," he returned in a guttural, very fake accent.

Narrowing her gray eyes, Mikasa gave Devin a cold glare. Immediately, the child "eeped" and shrank back. Satisfied, the woman smirked. He was a sweet kid, in fact, he was already the highlight of her day.

There was an abrupt knock on the window and a deep "Devin?!".

The boy in question shot up, still clutching his sandwich, and screeched, "That's my dad!"

Mikasa's eyes widened. She hastily cleaned up the little booth and wiped Devin's mouth clean before ripping open the window. Outside, waiting with a hand on his hip, was a man with icily impatient blue eyes hooded with furrowed, thick brown eyebrows. He had a blond side swept haircut and sported a nice undercut to go with it. He had a sour, unimpressed expression on his face, sunken cheeks, bags under his eyes, and flared nostrils. He was wearing an army uniform. Could he have just gotten here? No wonder he looked so tired.

Devin jumped out of the booth and rushed into his father's arms. "Dad!"

The man's voice was frustrated, "Devin, what did I tell you about running off like that? You scared me half to death!"

The little boy sheepishly replied, "Sorry. But Mikasa took care of me!"

"Who?" The father responded curtly.

A mangy little finger pointed at the booth holder. "Mikasa. She's nice. She has Pepsi."

A blush spread across Mikasa's face when Devin's dad looked up at her. For a second, there was a softened look of gratitude, relief. But in a split second it went back to the cold, stone like visage. "Thank you for watching my son," he said.

She nodded quickly, replying, "Thank you for serving...," she saluted.

"Commander Erwin Smith," he commented, saluting back. "It's an honor."

"My brother is in the army. He just transferred to the 104th regiment a few months ago."

The commander had begun to turn around when he heard her speak. "What's his name?" He asked.

"Eren Jaeger, sir" she responded.

His eyebrows shot up. "Cadet Jaeger is your brother?" He asked. "I never would have guessed."

Mikasa shrugged, answering, "He doesn't talk about me much. I was going to enlist with him, to keep him out of trouble but...things happened."

"Well, not to worry. Cadet Jaeger is excelling," the man replied, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.

Relieved, Mikasa sighed. "Good. Sometimes he can be a handful."

Erwin smirked, "I know what that's like." He squeezed the hand of his son, who'd been whining incoherently about seeing Mickey Mouse in the parade.

Snorting, the employee leaned against her counter and said, "Devin is a good kid. He's very sweet."

Shaking his head, Erwin looked hopeful but also in disbelief. "You're the first person to say that in a very long time, Mikasa. Every other babysitter Devin's ever quit when they couldn't handle him."

"Oh please, he's fine," Mikasa replied, grinning at the boy.

Devin must've heard his name because his eyes lit up. "Dad, can Mikasa be my new babysitter when you leave again?" He asked.

Erwin's face fell. Mikasa could see the horrors through his eyes. Just then she noticed the folded up right sleeve, flowing to the wind. As the Commander started to say "No", the woman cut in, "I have an associates degree in Liberal Science from Broward College in Fort Lauderdale and I used to coach girl's soccer and boy's volleyball at The Sunnyside Day Camp. I used to care for my brother when we lived in a group home for three years so I have experience with other kids."

She blushed when she realized she'd just blurted out a resume. Erwin stared at her for a few minutes, puzzled. "I'm not sure I follow you. Are you asking for a job? Do you realize how hard it is to work with an army family?"

"I'm starting to understand."

Erwin looked her up and down and smiled. It seemed like real genuine smile, too. "We'll see. Will you be here at six thirty?"

She nodded, "Usually, yeah."

"Then I'll give you my answer then."

"Okay."

The Smiths walked away, waving to her. Mikasa felt a sudden twinge in her heart, the kind she hadn't felt since Eren got on that airplane. That was too long ago. But now she had hope to be closer to him and a way to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Not to mention the sudden, yearning desire to see Commander Smith again. He was too interesting to just forget.

Mikasa hoped she wouldn't _ever_ forget him.


End file.
